30 Days of George and Hermione
by kitcat234
Summary: This was me taking a crack at ericandy's 30 Day OTP (One True Pairing) Challenge on tumblr. I was unable to finish his challenge, so it is officially closed even though it is incomplete.
1. Chapter 1

**Day 1: Holding Hands**

"George, where are you taking me?"

"Oh hush. We'll be there in a minute."

"Seriously, where are we going?"

"Don't you trust me, Hermione?" There was a beat of pure silence and George gave Hermione an offended look even though she was blindfolded. "That hurts, Granger. That really hurts me."

Hermione giggled and continued to walk forward, George's hand on her shoulder guiding her. Finally they stopped and her hands shot to the blindfold, but George batted them away.

"No! You have to let me ramp up the moment!" he cried.

"Oh honestly. This is just getting ridiculous," Hermione huffed.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist. Alright, I have brought you to a place few people have ventured. It's very dangerous, and very mysterious, but I think you'll like it." George smiled and untied the kerchief from around her eyes. He watched as her eyes blinked and she looked around, a beaming smile on her face. It slid off her face and was replaced by a look of bemusement.

"Your workshop," she said in a monotone. "You begged me for weeks, hyped up this entire night, blindfold me and walk me to a 'secret location,' and it's the workshop of your store?" She looked up at him, a small disbelieving smile playing on her lips. "You're joking, right?"

He felt more than a little put out by her reactions but hoped for a solid recovery. "Actually, that's the idea. You, my darling–" He got a look for that but just grinned and continued. " –get to create your very own, personalized, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product."

She burst into laughter. "You're kidding! You want me making one? After all the times I nagged you about them at school?"

"Hermione, that was three years ago. I've forgiven your bad behavior," he said with a wink, which he was pleased to see made her blush slightly and laugh.

"Alright then," she said with a smile, dropping her bag by the door and setting herself down on the stool sitting in front of the already-prepared work surface.

There was a long moment of silence as Hermione's gaze roved over the potion ingredients, bottles of brightly-colored fluid, and sparkling piles of powders that covered the table, and George's gaze roved over Hermione. He smiled as he watched her hands snake back and start twisting her perfectly-curled hair (that he knew she would never admit to spending time on) into a messy bun and tie it off before her fingers started dancing around, touching every possible ingredient, familiarizing herself with them. She was beaming, lit from within with excitement that seemed to radiate from her and make the room brighter, warmer. He had been fighting for this night to happen for forever; three months, two weeks, and four days to be exact. Not that he'd been counting or anything. It wasn't like he was desperate. He had just somehow picked the one girl who stubbornly refused to say "yes." This night was what he had been working towards and it was going to go perfectly.

He heard a wobble of unsteady chair legs, the shattering of glass, a sizzling sound, and a yelp of pain.

Shite.

.

.

.

"The burns were pretty bad. It was good you brought her in so quickly or else it could have gotten much worse," said the Healer quietly to George just outside the hospital room. "I've taken care of it as much as I could, but some of it needs to heal on its own a little. Needless to say, that particular mix of ingredients should never be put together again." George hung his head and tapped his toe as he fidgeted with a loose string on his shirt. The Healer, noticing his clear guilt and nerves, gave him a sympathetic smile. "She needs to keep those dressings on her arm for the next few days, then she can come back in for a check-up. You can go in and see her now, but she's going to be a bit off from all the medicine."

George nodded gratefully and stepped inside the room. Hermione was lying on a hospital bed looking drowsy, her entire left forearm and hand bandaged. He walked up to her side and she slowly turned her head to face him.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said, his voice shaking slightly. Damn it all, he was supposed to be the one with it all together here. "I really cocked things up this time, didn't I?"

She chuckled, much to his surprise. "One hell of a memorable first date," she said.

He started slightly as he felt her undamaged fingertips brush his. She chuckled again as she weaved her fingers in with his, just smiling at him and shaking her head.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wasn't able to get this chapter up last night, so here's this chapter and another chapter so I'll be caught up! They will all be varying in length depending on what story comes to me. Hope you enjoy them!**

.

.

.

**Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere**

It had been three days since "The Date," as George called it in his mind. The night that he tried to woo Hermione and she ended up in St. Mungo's with her whole arm badly burned. _Right on track_, he thought sarcastically. Tonight was the usual Weasley family dinner, and he, for once, was dreading going.

Everything was fine at the Burrow until Hermione stepped out of the floo. Everyone seemed to notice her bandaged hand and arm immediately, and swarmed concernedly.

"Hermione, what happened?" Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Oh dear, your fingers too? What happened?" Hermione looked over at George, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to immediately know. She rounded on him. "George Fabian Weasley! What did you do to her?"

"I─" he started, stuck somewhere between guilt and indignation that his mother automatically assumed it was his doing.

"It wasn't his fault," said Hermione quickly. "Not entirely." She looked over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder and gave George a small smile. "We were in his workshop and I knocked over some potions, and got burned." Mrs. Weasley's brow furrowed with worry, and Hermione added quickly, "But it's healing really nicely."

"Well, that's good," said Mrs. Weasley. She moved forward, giving Hermione a hug while carefully avoiding her bad arm, before letting Harry and Ron come up to talk to her. Mrs. Weasley strode over to George and stopped mere centimeters from his face. "George, you take care of that girl. If she gets hurts again, in any way," his mother said, her voice menacingly quiet, "you will be in big trouble."

George gulped.

.

.

.

After a lovely dinner, they all retired to the living room. George, Ron, Harry, and Charlie all played Exploding Snap while Bill, Percy, and Hermione all argued about a new law that was being passed through the Wizengamot. Mrs. Weasley played with baby Victoire, while Mr. Weasley talked to Fleur. After a few hours of talking, joking, and passing around sleeping babies when people's arms got tired, people started breaking off from the group.

Mr. Weasley stood with a groan. "Alright, you lot. Keep it down, alright? We're off to bed," he said with a tired smile at the group.

"Night, Mum. Night, Dad," the Weasleys chorused as Harry and Hermione chimed, "Goodnight Molly. Goodnight Arthur."

As the talk continued into the night, people slowly dissipated. Bill and Fleur left, a sleeping Victoire in arm, followed by Percy, who said something about work the next day and headed out. A little later, Harry and Ginny left to go pick up Teddy from Andromeda. The small group continued to chat, not noticing the time.

It was a few hours later when Mrs. Weasley came downstairs for a glass of water. As she passed the living room, she looked in and smiled at the scene illuminated by the dying fire. Ron was asleep in an armchair, snoring loudly. Charlie sat in the rocking chair, his head tipped back and his mouth open slightly as he slept. On the couch sat George, his arms wrapped around Hermione, who was curled up catlike against his side, her legs tucked under her. Her injured hand rested on George's, almost as if they had been holding hands when they had fallen asleep. Mrs. Weasley smiled to herself and padded back to the kitchen, her tired mind debating whether it was too soon to start planning the wedding.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 3: Gaming/Watching a Movie**

"So we're doing this because…?" asked George as he let Hermione drag him down an unknown street in muggle London.

"You wanted another date, didn't you?" replied Hermione. "So I got to pick it this time. I think it's only fair since the last date I had with you got me sent to the hospital."

George opened his mouth to apologize _once again_ when he saw her flash him a teasing grin. "You are never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Absolutely not!"

There was a pause as he thought about what she had said before. "The way you say that makes it sound like we've been on multiple dates," he said with a sly grin. "Are you automatically assuming I'll take you out more than these two times?"

She turned her head and gave him a small smile. "We'll see." They continued to walk for a few more meters when she smiled. "We're here!" she said.

George looked up to see the façade of an old theater before Hermione yanked him along. She purchased two tickets for something with muggle money, and then they went inside. They were the only people in the theater, save for a spotty young usher who was dozing in one of the chairs. Hermione selected two seats in the middle of the theater and gestured for George to sit down next to her.

"Alright," he said. "So what are we watching?"

"An older film. _Rear Window_. It's one of my favorites," she said. "It's a suspense movie."

George pretended to scoff. "Your movie can't scare me, Hermione, but nice try." Hermione just smiled, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

.

.

.

"He killed her. He absolutely killed her. Merlin, he chopped her up and put her in packing boxes. That's disgusting," muttered George, horrified as they watched Lars Thorwald cleaning his knife and handsaw. Hermione bit back a grin and continued to watch the movie. George did not stop talking though.

"And he killed the dog? What a bastard! I know he did it now."

"Oh no, Lisa, don't go in there. Don't go in the flat. He's a murderer for Merlin's sake! Don't go in—" He groaned. "He's going to catch her. He better not kill her. Oh no, oh no, he's home, he's home, get out get out get out get— No! I told you!"

"Oh she's clever! She's got the ring! Oh. Oh no. Oh damn. He's going to see him! He's going to see Jeff! Oh bugger. He's going to die now too, isn't he?"

Hermione shushed him, but grinned, knowing he'd be back to talking in a few minutes. She burst out laughing when George jumped at Thorwald's appearance in Jeff's apartment and actually cried out when Thorwald almost threw Jeff out the window.

.

.

.

"You were scared, admit it!" cried Hermione happily, attracting several startled looks from other pedestrians.

"I was not! I was simply worried for him," said George as they turned down another street.

"You liar! You jumped out of your chair!"

"I was surprised."

"You screamed!"

"I did not scream!"

"Okay, you shouted in shock," conceded Hermione with a grin.

"You're just imagining things; that's what this is," said George. Hermione rolled her eyes, making George laugh. "That was good fun, Hermione. But I pick the next date."

"How do you know there's even a _next_ date?" said Hermione.

George paused, looking at her curiously as they walked. Hermione continued walking, but a small smile played around the corners of her mouth. "Is there a next date?" asked George, already knowing the answer.

Hermione smiled but continued looking forward. "Perhaps."


	4. Chapter 4

**DAY 4: ON A DATE**

George knocked on the door to Hermione's flat. He could hear footsteps inside, and then the door swing open to reveal…not Hermione. He knew she had a flatmate, but he hadn't expected one who was so diametrically opposed to Hermione. She was very tall, as tall as George, with dark skin, elegant bone structure, and no hair. She gave George a bored look.

"Yes?"

"Hi there," he said, "I'm here to pick up Hermione."

There was a pause where she just looked to him and, without warning, shouted, "HERMIONE!" He jumped.

"Er, thanks," he said, shaking his head slightly, hoping he still had his hearing.

She gave him a nod and then walked to the couch, where she threw herself down unceremoniously, picked up a magazine, rifled through it, and began to read. He stood in the open doorway awkwardly, not knowing what to do since he hadn't actually been invited in. He had only waited a few moments when Hermione hurried out. He just looked at her for a second, and it was only until she laughed that he realized he probably had a very stupid looking grin on his face.

"Hello," she said. "You know, you didn't have to pick me up."

"I wanted to do things right," said George. "You used to tell me how irresponsible I was. I've got to prove to you I'm relationship material."

Her mouth fell slightly open and her eyes seemed brighter as she seemed to take in his words. "Well, alright then. Shall we?"

.

.

.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly," said the hostess before walking away.

George and Hermione opened their menus and scanned over all the dishes.

"Interesting that our third date is the traditional dinner at a nice restaurant," said Hermione, looking over her menu.

"Well, you know me. I can't do anything the way I'm supposed to," George said. "Plus, I remembered you had talked about wanting to try this place."

"Like three months ago when it opened! I can't believe you remembered."

"Hello," said a young man who had just walked up and pulled a notepad from his back pocket. "My name is John, and I'll be your waiter tonight. Are you two ready to order, or would you like some more time?" He directed all of his comments at Hermione, giving her a wide smile, while completely ignoring George.

"Well, I think I'm ready. I'll have the sole meunière. Oh, and a water."

George watched John the Waiter, waiting for him to look at him and take his order, but he continued to smile at Hermione, who looked torn between confusion and amusement. George coughed loudly. There was no reaction. "Well, I'm going to have the boeuf bourguignon, if it's not too much of a distraction," George said loudly. "And a water as well."

John's eyes flicked over to George and he quickly wrote down both orders before flashing another smile at Hermione and walking away. Hermione burst into laughter as George glared at John's retreating back.

"You didn't have to be so hard on him," Hermione teased. "He's only doing his job."

"Hardly!" George cried. "He didn't even look at me. I practically had to shout my order at him just to get him to stop slobbering and staring at you."

"Is someone jealous?"

"Frankly, yes. Yes I am. He needs to do his damn job, and that's serving us while we're on our _date_." George glared at the candle in the center of the table like it had done him a serious wrong.

Hermione reached across the table and wrapped her hand around George's, which was tapping agitatedly next to his knife. "But I'm here with you, George," she said sweetly. "So calm down and don't kill our waiter. We need him."

.

.

.

They had been chatting happily for about ten minutes when Hermione glanced around and giggled quietly.

"What?" asked George.

"Look two tables over to your left," she whispered.

George looked around surreptitiously and saw a couple, about their same age, on what appeared to be a first date. The girl kept biting her lip nervously, her eyes flicking between the boy across from her and the candle on the table, nervous about making eye contact. The boy was spinning the knife in his fingers, watching his hand determinedly. Every once and a while, one would say something minor and the other would respond with something equally unhelpful, like _hmm_ or _I suppose_. George laughed, accidentally startling the couple.

"Is that what we're supposed to be like?" he asked.

"Merlin, I hope not. I've been on dates like that. They're awkward and stilted and just awful," said Hermione.

"I can't help but feel bad for them. It's so uncomfortable over there that it's hurting me."

"I don't know, George," said Hermione with a grin. "How do you know we're not going about this all wrong – you know, actually talking and such?"

George laughed and threw an ice cube at her. Hermione let out a little squeak of surprise, earning them glares from several diners, including the Awkward Couple. George laughed, and was thoroughly taken back when he felt something wet and very cold hit him square in the forehead.

"Oh, it's on."


	5. Chapter 5

**DAY 5: KISSING**

They walked out of the restaurant two hours later, having thoroughly irritated the people around them and several members of staff for their ice-throwing and their raucous laughter, but neither cared much. Hermione didn't know what it was about George, but when she was with him, she stopped thinking about rules and propriety, and just let go. He always brought out the inner trouble-maker within her, and in turn, he seemed much more determined, focused when he was around her. She had known months ago that she fancied him and would like to date him, but she let the wooing and pleading drag on for months, mostly because it was fascinating and (if she was honest) attractive to see him so absolutely stubborn, doggedly pursuing something he wanted. She had originally thought his attraction to her would just be a passing phase, but after the first month, she realized he was serious about it. It was a surprising change from the laissez-faire attitude he seemed to take with life in general, although she was realizing that wasn't exactly true. The more time she spent with him, the more she saw how passionate he was about things, his business, his family, pursuing her. Apparently, school had just not been granted that level of approval.

They walked back to her flat at a meandering pace, enjoying the brisk fall weather and each others' company. Too soon, however, they reached her flat.

"So, it's been three dates now. Am I allowed to kiss you yet?" George asked with a nervous smile.

" 'Allowed to?' I never said you weren't allowed to," she replied. There was half a beat of silence as George seemed to take this in. "You could have on the first date."

"Really? You would have wanted our first kiss to be on a hospital bed?"

"Not _wanted_, but it was feasible," she said, a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth.

"After that horrid of a date, you wanted to kiss me?" asked George, incredulous. Hermione just smiled at him and raised her eyebrow. "Oh, buggering hell, you mean I've been waiting these past few weeks for no reason?" he cried.

"Well, they were very nice weeks," she said sweetly.

"You're impossible to read, do you know that?" said George, running a hand through his hair and staring at her.

Before she could respond, George moved forward, closing the gap between them. He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, gentle enough for a first kiss, but forceful enough that that there was no doubt that more would follow. His hands moved up to cradle her face, his fingertips buried in her curls. She kissed back, relishing every second as she wrapped her arms around his abdomen, holding him tightly. They broke apart and their eyes opened slowly. They looked at each other silently, taking in the situation, before George muttered, "You're a right tease, you know that?" She laughed and he swooped down again, kissing her harder, more insistently than before. His arms wrapped around her waist as hers wound around his neck. He lifted her off the ground, making her squeak in surprise, pulling her as close to his body as possible.

When they finally broke apart several minutes later, chests heaving, George grinned at her and tucked a rogue curl behind her ear as she tried to flatten down her mussed hair.

"So, what do you say – officially dating now?" George asked.

"Well…" she pretended to hesitate, but couldn't keep the smile from her face.

"You little-" growled George as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her another quick, hard kiss.

"I say 'yes'," said Hermione.

The door suddenly opened from behind them, startling them both. "You lot done yet?" said Hermione's seemingly-eternally-bored roommate. "Our elderly neighbor, Mrs. Greensmith, would like to walk back to her apartment without the hallway being blocked by people snogging."

They broke apart guiltily and let little Mrs. Greensmith totter back to her apartment. As soon as her door was shut, Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed George softly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, 'Mione."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry I got so behind on these! What with finals and then my twentieth birthday yesterday, everything got away from me! I will be putting up all the new chapters that I missed, as well as a new chapter of "Strange Bedfellows" in the next couple days!**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**DAY 6: WEARING EACH OTHERS' CLOTHES**

"Hermione, are you ready or what? We're supposed to be watching Teddy in a minute," called Ron from the living room as he stepped out of the floo.

"I'm coming! Hold on!" Hermione called back.

Ron dawdled, looking around at the pictures in the room as he waited for Hermione to come out. He looked up when he heard footsteps approaching. Hermione walked in, a man's navy button down that was two sizes too big for her pulled over a white tank top. She walked around the room, picking up her bag and her coat, as if nothing was amiss. Ron just stared at her. He grinned.

"So, 'Mione, how are things with George going?" he asked.

"Fine," she said absentmindedly as she searched under couch pillows for her missing second mitten.

"Just fine?" he asked.

She looked up, frowning slightly. "Why are you so keen on knowing? I thought you wouldn't want to talk about it, as it's your brother I'm dating."

"Oh, I was just wondering how it was going. How far?" Hermione looked shocked and he continued, grinning. "You know, it's usually after a shag that you end up stealing clothing."

Hermione looked down at her shirt and blushed furiously. "Ronald Weasley! That is private information." Ron held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "And by the way, that has not happened. I just…kind of…stole his shirt when I was over the other day."

"Why are you stealing his clothes?"

"Shouldn't we get going? We don't want to be late!" She strode to the fireplace, threw in a pinch of powder, and shouted, "Grimmauld Place!"

Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione disappeared, and followed her through it.

"Sorry we're late," he heard Hermione saying loudly as she walked up the stairs to Teddy's room. Ron walked in and saw that they were not the only ones there. Harry, Ginny, Teddy, and George were all in the bedroom, a very confused Hermione in the doorway.

"What's going on, mate?" Ron said, looking at Harry over Hermione's shoulder.

"Apparently," said Harry, "I asked you two to watch Teddy and Ginny asked George to watch Teddy, so now we have three babysitters."

Ron looked at Ginny, who was somewhere between exasperated and amused, and then at George, who was frowning at Hermione.

"Is that my shirt?" asked George.

Hermione looked guilty for a moment before quickly looking at Harry. "So, which of us is watching Teddy?"

"I swear that's my shirt," muttered George. Hermione guiltily played with the tail of the shirt. Ron just smirked.


	7. Chapter 7

**DAY 7: COSPLAYING**

"You want me to dress up as a muggle doctor?"

"No, THE Doctor."

"It doesn't matter what signifier you say it with; I still don't understand," said George.

"He's a character from a television show I used to love watching as a kid," said Hermione. She showed him the picture of the costume.

"No. No. Definitely not. I'll look like a nancy boy," he said, shoving the picture away and crossing his arms.

"No you won't!" Hermione appealed, her voice lilting higher in desperation. "Come on, you're the one who wanted to do this whole 'couple costume' idea for Halloween!"

"Yes, but this costume idea is awful. No one will get it because it's a muggle show, and I'll look ridiculous while you walk about looking like a normal muggle girl!"

"Well, have you got a better idea?" Hermione huffed.

"Actually, yes," said George with a grin. He pulled out a picture of his own from his back pocket.

Hermione looked at the picture and snorted. "Seriously? That's your idea?"

"Yes," said George proudly.

Hermione sighed and smiled. "Alright. But my idea was more imaginative."

George rolled his eyes but said nothing.

.

.

.

They stepped through the emerald flames and Ron, dressed like a Healer with a sign around his neck that said _Will examine for snogs_, grinned at them. "Welcome, Professors. It's so nice to see Quirrell and Umbridge at our party. I can assure you that you two are the most frightening things here."


	8. Chapter 8

**DAY 8: SHOPPING**

"This is boring, Hermione. Can't we just leave?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You are such a baby," she muttered.

"Am not!" George whined in a highly accurate imitation of a five-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.

Hermione looked around, hands gesturing in the air, as if willing the air around them to agree with her point.

"Why are we Christmas shopping anyways?" asked George, dragging his feet as he moved behind her at a sloth-like pace. "It's barely November."

"Because then it will be done before all the crazy shoppers try and buy out the stores in December. You own a shop, for Merlin's sake. You know how crazy December is. We're avoiding that now."

Hermione continued on in her brisk pace, but then turned around when she got no expected whine of protest. George was two store windows back, watching an elderly woman with a plump, merry face dipping strawberries into a spinning bowl of melted chocolate. She sighed and walked back to where he was. She grabbed a hold of George's hand and yanked him forward. He tripped and exclaimed in surprise, which drew several shoppers' startled/irritated looks.

"Oi! What's the problem?"

"You said you wanted to spend more time together," said Hermione.

"Yeah, but I had more of a _Watch your crap muggle telly shows and eat the food you like cooking so much and have a good snog on every surface of yours and my apartments_ kind of plan. Not this," he said, gesturing to the busy streets of muggle London.

"If you behave, you might get both," Hermione said in a sing-song manner.

That stopped George right in his tracks.

"Really?"

Hermione pulled him forward once again, her fingers twining with his. She gave his hand a tight squeeze and flashed him an impish grin. "If you help me shop the rest of the day for everyone, you can get all of that for all of our time together next week. And if you behave, I'll even let you snog me somewhere inappropriate, like in an antique store on 100 year old furniture, while the old little proprietor isn't looking."

George's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. He immediately quickened his pace and started looking at the shop windows in earnest. "C'mon you," he said, flashing her a naughty grin. "Let's find ourselves an antique shop."


	9. Chapter 9

**DAY 9: HANGING OUT WITH FRIENDS**

.

"RUBBISH!"

"FIX IT! HURRY! FIX IT, YOU TOSSER!"

"HERMIONE! QUICKLY!"

_Buzz!_

As the egg timer went off, three squeals of happiness were heard over three groans of disappointment. Hermione, who had been kneeling, sat back on her heels and looked proudly at hers, Ginny's, and Luna's creation. It was a tower built out of Exploding Snap cards that was almost as tall as Hermione herself. She glanced around the tower to where the three boys were sitting around a small crater in Grimmauld Place's drawing room floor, all burnt slightly and still griping at each other.

"Ron, what the hell, mate? You should have known that card would blow the deck!" Harry half-shouted in frustration as he tried to clean the soot from his glasses with the bottom of his shirt.

"I didn't know that! How would I have known that? George was shouting at me to finish like a great bloody git and I panicked! It's his fault!" defended Ron, trying to tamp down the little flames still burning on the tips of his (now literally) flaming red hair.

"I'm the git? You almost broke the tower twice before this happened! You're just a clod!" George sniped back as he looked in the reflection of the now-darkened window at his dirty reflection.

"Boys," said Ginny sardonically. "There's no need to get shirty with each other. It's nobody's fault that you lost almost every competition we've had tonight. Us girls are just better than you at almost everything."

Hermione and Luna laughed as Harry turned, grabbed a pillow off a nearby armchair, and chucked it at his fiancée. Unfortunately for him, she caught it, thanks to her catchers' reflexes, and hurled it back. Harry ducked and it his Ron square in the face.

"Oh," said Ron in a dangerous tone, "it's on now!" He picked up the pillow and hurled it at Ginny, who dodged it. The pillow continued sailing and hit Luna on the back of the head. Ron paled slightly. "Luna, honey, I'm–" His words were cut off as his girlfriend hit him with the pillow in the chest.

In no time at all, the pillow had been duplicated many times over and the room was a blur of red and gold tassels. Inevitably, as everything had been that day, it soon turned into a gender war of a pillow fight, as the boys tossed as hard as they could and Ginny hurled pillows as Hermione caught them and handed them to her. It finally ended when Luna had hoarded all the pillows, leaving the boys without ammunition, and magicked them to all hit the boys at once.

"Uncle!" cried George. "Uncle!" His arm shot up from the pillows, his wand aloft and sporting a small white flag.

"We surrender!" said Ron, slightly muffled, from somewhere under a pile of pillows.

.

As they headed down to the kitchen to use the floo, George wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist. "Well fought, yeah?"

Hermione grinned. "Indeed. Although I'd say you took a beating."

George looked about ready to contradict when Hermione gestured to his face. He frowned and ducked into a nearby bedroom. There was a small shout of surprise and he rushed back out, holding his left eyebrow. "I'm going to kill Ron," he muttered darkly.

Hermione smiled and rested a hand on his arm comfortingly. "It's not that bad. Let me see."

She pulled his hand away and saw that, thanks to their exploding tower, George was completely missing his left eyebrow. She couldn't help it – she giggled. He bit his lip, obviously unhappy and she hurriedly silenced her laughter.

"No no, George, it's not that bad! It's-, okay, it's funny, but I can fix it. There's no need to seek revenge on Ron," she said. George gave her a skeptical look. "Maybe you might want to keep it, you know. This way you have something missing on both sides, an ear and an eyebrow. You can look thoroughly ridiculous now."

She burst into laughter and ran down the stairs as George lunged at her in mock anger. As they ran past the group, the others started laughing at their antics and Harry spoke up.

"I don't understand how, but that pair is pretty perfect together."

"Yeah," added Ron, "perfectly mad."


	10. My Apologies

To All My Wonderful Readers:

I am very sorry but I will not be finishing the remainder of the prompts for this challenge. I discovered quite quickly that it was much easier to fufill this challenge as an artist rather than a writer, and I have seriously been struggling.

So, this ends at Chapter Nine, but never fear, dear readers! I have two new story ideas lined up, and one that I will be starting very soon. So thank you for your understanding and your patience with me.

Best,

Cat


End file.
